


Snapshots of Time III

by hummerhouse



Series: Snapshots of Time [3]
Category: Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (TV 2003)
Genre: Language, Multi, Turtlecest, Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-10-03
Updated: 2014-10-03
Packaged: 2018-02-19 18:53:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2399135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hummerhouse/pseuds/hummerhouse
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Disclaimer: The TMNT are not mine. No money being made.<br/>Word Count: 2,637 Drabble set<br/>Rated: PG-13<br/>Momentary glimpses of life, captured and placed into an album.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Snapshots of Time III

** Prankster **

            “Hey Donny, where’s the . . . oh, never mind.  I found it.  Thanks!” Mikey said in a breathless rush.

            Don spun his chair around in time to see Michelangelo run out of his lab, whatever he had come in for firmly clutched to his plastron.  Since Don didn’t really approve of him taking things without asking, the purple banded turtle got up and trailed after his little brother.

            Mikey was moving quickly and furtively as he looked all around before dashing into the dojo.  His behavior answered Don’s primary question; Mikey was obviously planning a prank.

            Fairly confident that he wasn’t the target, Don followed his brother just as far as the doorway.  He watched as Mikey began to tear off strips of duct tape from the roll he’d just borrowed.

            Don couldn’t help the small smile that played across his lips.  He knew how riled up this particular prank was going to make a certain hot headed turtle, but he couldn’t find the heart to interfere.

            If Leonardo caught Mikey in the act it would be all over before it began; but Don tended to take the clinical observer’s point of view.  At least as long as Mikey wasn’t pranking him.

            Don continued to watch Mikey’s preparations for a few minutes.  By this time, Mikey knew Don was standing there and that he was going to stay out of it, so Mikey was grinning like the Cheshire cat.

            Shaking his head, Don turned and left Mikey to finish alone.  He did make a mental note to be on hand for the grand finale.

            A couple of hours later, Donatello heard Raphael storm into the lair.  Don jumped up from his seat and peeked out of his lab to see where the hot head was going.

            Everyone had been in a bad mood lately.  Master Splinter was not pleased with the increased Foot activity and had forbidden them surface time.  Raph had taken to running the sewers to try to burn off his frustration, but every time he headed for the door, Leo was there to remind him of Master Splinter’s edict.

            That led to the usual round of arguments and fights.  Leo and Raph were now no longer speaking to each other.

            Predictably, Raphael headed straight for the dojo.  As he had earlier with Mikey, Don padded along quietly.

            Leo was already inside practicing his forms, his katanas slicing through the air with expert precision.  Raph stopped long enough to glare at him, but since Leo was much too focused to pay him any mind, the red banded brother stalked past him and approached his beloved punching bag.

            A movement in the corner of his eye caught Don’s attention and he saw that Mikey was inside the dojo as well; seated on a brick ledge where he’d apparently been watching Leo train.  Don noticed that Mikey was quivering like an excited pup, his blue eyes shining as he turned them on Raph.

            Don could hear Raph’s low growl as he pulled his fists up and swung a hard right into the punching bag, twisting at the waist to put his entire body into the blow.

            As soon as his knuckle hit, a gigantic cloud of white smoke burst from the punching bag.

            The puff of white flew in all directions and caught Raphael full on.  Don could smell the dust from where he stood and he recognized the scent of talcum powder.

            “What the fuck . . . ?” Raph shouted, jumping back as he was coated in the thick white powder.

            Someone holding a pistol to Mikey’s head couldn’t have stopped the burst of laughter that escaped the orange banded trouble maker.  Instead of emerald green, Raphael was a shade of muted white from head to toe.

            Don lifted a hand to his mouth to stop the laughter that threatened to escape as Raph’s white lidded eyes snapped around to Mikey.

            “Ya’ messed with my punching bag?” Raph snarled incredulously.  “I’m gonna kill ya’, ya’ little shit stain.”

            Mikey had the good sense to start running before Raph finished the verbal part of his threat.  Don stepped aside as Mikey raced by him and remained plastered out of the way as Raph barreled past.

            Turning to look back into the now cloudy dojo, Don saw that Leo had sheathed his swords and was laughing.  No one even had been able to get him to smile in several days, and Don was elated.

            Hearing a crash, he looked over his shoulder and saw Mikey expertly dodge away from Raph’s reach.  Raph was wearing an exhilarated grin, knowing that at some point he’d catch his little brother.

            Don nodded, pleased with his decision to let Mikey proceed with his prank.  They needed Mikey in so many ways and this was just one small example.  The youngest brother absolutely refused to allow his family to take themselves too seriously.

            He definitely had ways of making sure that didn’t happen.

====================================================

** The Opposite Sex **

            “Come on Casey, put your back into it,” Raph grumbled, breathing heavily.

            “My back?  Umph!  I already put that and my spleen into it,” Casey growled back.  “Pull dammit!”

            “What do ya’ think I’m doin’?” Raph groaned.  “Shell, what the fuck is this thing made out of?”

            “I don’t, umph, know,” Casey said between grunts.  “It’s just old and they, umph, made stuff better back then.  Least that’s what April says.”

            “How’d she get this damn thing in here?  With a forklift?” Raph asked.

            “Fuck!” Casey yelled as he slammed his knee against the hard wooden side of the antique sideboard.

            He and Raph had been conscripted into moving duties inside April’s shop and the sideboard was one of the larger pieces that she needed to have them shift to a new position.  Unfortunately, it felt like it was heavier than April’s van.

            “Don’t ya’ fuckin’ drop this on my toe, Casey,” Raph warned in a low tone.

            “Quit bitchin’,” Casey retorted.  “I’m the one who just busted a knee cap on this monster.”

            Trying to get a better grip on the large piece of furniture, Raph shifted his hands down further.  The heavy top immediately tipped forwards.

            “Oh shit!” Casey yelled and smacked one of his hands against the front to try and steady it.

            Off balance and with neither mover having a solid hold, the sideboard slid down between them and landed on its base with a solid, reverberating thud.

            “What are you doing?”

            April’s shrill cry made them both wince.  Leaning against the sideboard and gasping for air, they watched her race down the stairs and fly across the shop towards them.

            She ran straight to the sideboard and bent down to examine it, making sure that the drop hadn’t damaged the wood in any way.  Turning a glare on her two movers, April stood up and put her hands on her hips.

            “I’m sorry ba . . .  April,” Case said before she could speak.  “It’s heavy and we couldn’t get a good grip on it.”

            “Yeah April,” Raph rushed to agree.  “What have ya’ got in this thing?”

            “In it?” April asked in exasperation.  “There shouldn’t be anything in it.”

            She reached for one of the drawers and pulled it open.  The inside was full of silverware.

            “Casey Jones,” April said in a voice deep with frustration, “didn’t I tell you to take all of the drawers out first?”

            Casey shrugged, grinning foolishly.  “That takes too much time.”

            “Well you’re going to do it now,” April informed him sharply.  “Take out every drawer _carefully_ and then move the sideboard _._ Afterwards you’re going to put everything back exactly the way it was.”

            “Everything?” Raph said in dismay.

            April spun on him.  “Yes, everything.  Stop being so lazy.”

            With that she stormed back upstairs.  Raph stared after her for a moment; then turned a scowl on his friend.

            “She told ya’ ta empty it?” he asked dangerously.

            “Hell, I figured we could move it without having ta take everything out,” Casey admitted.  “How was I supposed ta know it was full of metal?”

            “I ought ta leave and let ya’ finish this by yourself,” Raph told him.

            “No way man,” Casey said in a pleading voice.  “Ya’ gotta help me pal.  Look, I’m taking the drawers out now.”

            As Casey moved, Raph leaned against the sideboard to watch him.

            “You’re lucky I don’t smack ya’ for makin’ me strain my guts,” Raph said, still aggravated.  “Personally, I think we should cut out of here and let her highness move this shit herself.”

            “Can’t do that,” Casey said as he continued to empty the sideboard.

            “Don’t be such a pussy,” Raph rumbled, a brooding glare on his face.  “Damn, I’m still tempted ta take a swing at ya’.”

            Casey looked up, his lips twisting into a grin.  “Look at me like that all ya’ want Raph; the fact is, April scares me a lot more than ya’ do.”

            A shout from upstairs drew their attention.  “Are you finished yet?”

            Raph leaned over and quickly began to help Casey pull the drawers out of the sideboard.

            “Yeah, I see what ya’ mean.”

====================================================

** The Stand **

            Donatello was in a defensive stance, his bo out and ready as he stood in front of Leonardo.  On the ground, his face working to hide his pain, Leo watched the attackers move towards them.

            Slowly flooding the narrow alley, the group began to chant in a low cadence, the mob mentality in complete control of their actions.  Chains rattled; pipes and bats thumped against palms and the low streetlight glinted off of sharp metal.

            “Can you walk Leo?” Don asked without taking his eyes off the approaching gang.

            Leo grimaced, trying to stand, “Yes, just  . . . .”  He fell back to the ground, panting.  “No.”

            “Sprained or broken?”  Don spun his bo staff overhead a few times to show the gang he was adept with the weapon.  They hesitated, eyeing him.

            “Cracked, I think,” Leo answered.  “Someone caught my ankle with a lead pipe.”

            “Then we aren’t going to climb out of here,” Don said in a quiet voice.        

            “Donny . . . .” Leo began.

            Don interrupted, “I hope you’re not going to say ‘Donny, get out of here’.  There is no way I’m leaving you.”

            Ankle thrumming with pain, Leo sat up and scooted backwards until his carapace touched the tall metal fence that was strung across the alley.  His hands went back and he pushed his fingers through the openings, using that as leverage so that he could stand up.

            Keeping one hand on the fence as a brace, Leo unsheathed his katana with the other.  Don heard the rasp of the sword’s release and understood his brother well enough to know that if a fight began, Leo would throw himself into it regardless of the damage he would do to himself.

            One of the braver gang members rushed at Don, his chain swinging overhead.  Don jabbed forward with his bo, ramming it into the man’s stomach.  With a movement that was only a blur to those who watched, the bo came up and the end snapped down across the man’s head.

            The gang member uttered one shrill cry before his head spun sideways and his body followed suit.  Hitting the ground with a heavy thud, he lay motionless.

            Don took a step back, his eyes narrowed in concentration.  He understood psychology well enough to know the next move would be made by several of them at once.

            As if following a silent signal, the gang began to move forward again as a unit.

            “Careful Don, don’t let them flank you,” Leo cautioned from behind him.

            “Thanks bro’, I’ve done this a few times remember?” Don told him without removing his eyes from the oncoming threat.

            Four more men broke from the main group and dove at Donatello.  His bo sang as he smacked it down on one man’s wrist, and then swept the other end around and back to punch another man directly in his groin.

            That man fell to his knees and began to vomit before toppling over on his side.  Don flipped away as a third man swung a pipe at his head, and Don swept the feet out from under the fourth man before he could change direction to give chase.

            The first man dangled his broken wrist and came at Don with a face twisted in fury.  Don leaped skyward, delivering a punishing side kick to the man’s chest that sent the would be assailant back on his ass.

            Before he could get back up, Don jumped onto his stomach and slammed his bo against the side of the man’s head, knocking him out.

            Spinning to the side, Don avoided the knife thrust at him by the fourth man.  Bringing the bo up, Don caught the back of the man’s neck and the momentum pulled the man around so that he collided with the pipe wielder.

            The pipe bounced off the other’s head and the knife man went down without a sound.  Frustrated, the pipe wielder regained his balance and turned to look for Donatello.

            Don’s bo came down between the man’s legs as he moved and Don gave it a quick twist.  Legs tangled, the man fell forward clumsily and Don cracked his head with the bo staff.

            Turning swiftly, Donatello moved back into position between the rest of the gang and Leonardo.

            “Maybe I should take a nap,” Leo said with a low chuckle.

            “Save it for later,” Don said.  “We’re about to be rushed.”

            Before the rest of the gang had a chance to move, a wild shout sounded from behind them.  Screams quickly followed and the mob turned their backs to the trapped pair.

            “Calvary’s here!”  The unmistakable sound of Michelangelo’s voice echoed in the alley and Don grinned hugely.

            Leaping forward, Don barreled into the gang, his bo staff moving in a wicked arc.  Raph’s bloodthirsty cries combined with Mikey’s exuberant yells sent the gang into a frenzied panic and they all ran.

            Don settled his bo onto his carapace and rushed back to Leo.  His brother’s ankle was swollen to a nasty size and Leo slid down the fence once he saw the coast was clear.

            “You guys all right?” Mikey asked as he ran up to them.

            “Oh shit, Leo,” Raph rasped as he joined them, “your ankle looks like hell.”

            He started to reach out for his older brother, but Don pushed his hand aside.  Helping Leo stand, Don got a solid grip on him and practically lifted him as they started back to the lair.

            “I’ve got him Raph,” Don said in a determined voice, “you just make sure our path stays clear.”

            Raph stared at him in surprise, unused to the commanding tone coming from his purple banded brother.

            “You’d better listen to him Raph; Don’s not taking any nonsense tonight,” Leo said lightly, watching Don’s face as they walked.

            A flush crept over Don’s skin when he realized how he sounded.  Raph and Mikey moved out ahead of them, checking for any straggling gang members.

            “That was too strong wasn’t it?” Don asked, holding tightly to Leo.

            “I rather liked it,” Leo told him.  “I’m through giving commands; you take over.”

            Don glanced at him, hearing the low caress in Leo’s voice.  He suddenly felt hot all over, despite the shiver that ran up his back.

            Adrenaline still pumping, Don announced boldly, “I fully intend to.  Once that foot is wrapped, you’re going flat on your back and I expect you to do everything I say for the rest of the night.”

            “Everything?” Leo asked, lifting an eye ridge.

            “ _Everything_ ,” Don answered, tightening his grip and licking his lips in anticipation.


End file.
